The Mafia's Doctor

<-14->

I yawned as I stretched my arms wide. Looking down to my left, I saw that Marcella was still sleeping. The clock that hung on the wall and the growl in my stomach told me it was breakfast time. Careful not to wake Marcella, I took long and slow movements to get out of the bed.

I successfully maneuvered my way out of her room. I was eager to get to the kitchen but decided to stop at Matteo's room. I knocked on his door, loud enough for him to hear and quiet enough not to disturb his neighboring housemates. I was expecting Matteo, but it was Giovanni who answered the door.

"Did you guys end up having a sleepover of your own?" I asked, amused.

Gioavnni was no longer wearing just his boxers. He had added an article of clothing from the when I last saw him. Giovanni had on a white shirt. Since it looked like he had just woke up, it looked like he never left Matteo's room.

Matteo appeared behind Giovanni. He was shirtless. His chest and torso were exposed as the grey sweatpants covered his lower body. Thinking hard, wasn't Matteo wearing a white shirt last night?

"I was worried he'd try to break into Marcella's room while you guys were asleep," Matteo explained as he scratched his head, making his bed hair worse.

Giovanni's sleepy face was replaced with a smug look, "Don't use that excuse for why you tied me up last night."

My eyebrows shot up with Giovanni's bold statement.

"That did not happen." Matteo clarified to me.

"Don't be ashamed of what we have, Matty."

"Don't call me that."

"Oh, right!" Giovanni said, rolling his eyes as he facepalmed himself, "You made me promise to call you Matty-Poo."

"Giovanni, you got to stop joking aro-"

Giovanni slapped Matteo's butt. The force sent Matteo groaning in pain and stumbling a few steps forward. After Giovanni's hand came in contact with Matteo's buttcheek, he bolted to his room.

"That motherfucker," Matteo said as he rubbed his butt that had been wrongfully struck.

"Giovanni is something," I said.

I had never met a person with such a personality. He was definitely perverted and has no problem showing it. So far, I noticed that he like to sexualize anything, anytime, and anywhere.

"He's hard to handle." He admitted. "Give me a minute to get ready and then we can go downstairs for breakfast."

"Okay."

Matteo closed the door behind him after he went back inside his room. I heard shuffling as he got ready. Within a few minutes, Matteo walked out of his room with a black shirt on and his hair combed and gelled.

"It's going to be awhile until Marcella wakes up," Matteo said as we walked down the stairs. "We can use that time for some training."

"Sure," I said at his suggestion.

As we got closer to the kitchen, the smell of freshly cooked breakfast got stronger. Walking into the empty dining room, my heart dropped to my stomach. On the table, there were mountains of pancakes, breakfast burritos, and French toast.

"Actually, Matteo," I said as I grabbed a plate, "I don't think we'll able to do any training after breakfast."

Matteo chuckled, "Help yourself."

>>>-M-A-T-T-E-O->
I sat across from Ila with my plate of French toast. As I ate, I occasionally glanced at Ila.

I've never seen someone look at food the way Ila did. I wondered how she kept her petite figure as she reached for her third breakfast burrito. Ila must have held herself back at last night dinner.

"How come you didn't eat like that last night?"

Ila looked at me, embarrassed, and said, "I'm a shy eater."

We were the only two eating breakfast in the dining room. Occasionally people would walk in, grab what they wanted to munch on and return to their rooms to eat.

"I'm here," I said, challenging her.

She kept eye contact with me as she thought about what she was going to say. "I guess I'm now comfortable around you."

Was she never comfortable with me? Saying that she was comfortable around me, was she implying that she trust me that I wouldn't kill her?

Feeling the presence of someone standing behind me made me abandon my thoughts. I turn my head to see my grandmother scowling at me.

"Matteo, stop the slouching." My nonna as she slapped my back. It caused me to cough up a piece of french toast that I had decided to swallow as her hand come in contact with my back.

"Good morning, grandma," I said after my choking fit.

"That's debatable." She frowned as she sat in the seat next to me.

<-I-L-A-<<<

The old lady with the heavy Italian accent turned to face me.

"Hello," I greeted her.

"Hi, how are you settling in, dear?" She asked in a completely different tone that she used to speak to Matteo. She sounded genuinely concerned instead of annoyed.

"It's all new to me," I admitted.

"I would say that I'm sorry you're here in the mess we called Il Bisbigilo, but you got what was coming."

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked, unsure of what she was implying.

"I'm just saying if you had never saved Matteo, none of this would have happened to you."

"I've realized that I long time ago." I joked halfheartedly. Matteo raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes at me. The old lady caught Matteo's action and frowned.

"Keep rolling your eyes, stupido." The lady said with dripping sarcasm, "Maybe you'll find a brain back there."

She looked back at me with a different look on her face. She looked grateful yet unhappy.

"Thank you for saving my grandson, unfortunately." With that, she got up from her seat. I watched her short and slightly chubby figure walk out of the room before I spoke.

"Did your grandma basically said that I should have left you to die? Is she really sad about you being alive?"

"It's a love-hate relationship," Matteo said, shrugging his shoulders.

<~>
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